


love yourself to death (or the one where no one knows)

by Cinnamonbookworm



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: F/M, League of Assassins - Freeform, Secret Relationship, making out on a car, nyssa brought sara back to life as an act of defiance, oliver is all al saheem, post 3x20 au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-19
Updated: 2015-04-19
Packaged: 2018-03-24 20:35:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3783520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cinnamonbookworm/pseuds/Cinnamonbookworm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>Three weeks.</i><br/><i>It’s been three weeks since she last saw him. Three weeks since she kissed him goodbye in a darkened corner of Nanda Parbat. Three weeks since they tried not to share secret smiles with each other as she boarded the jet once again because he was Heir to the Demon now, Al Sahim to be exact, and she was supposed to have said goodbye to him, not hello, but she’d done just the opposite of that. And now they were something, despite no one else really knowing that they were something, and that thought sent a whole different set of electric jolts down her spine.</i><br/><i>But now here he was, three weeks later, staring right past her and straight into Nyssa like they weren’t a something, and it was getting on her nerves.</i><br/>au that takes place after 3x20 but was written before the episode airs</p>
            </blockquote>





	love yourself to death (or the one where no one knows)

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote this in my head backstage last night. then some spoilers came out that discredited it completely but i couldn't just _not_ write it. So I did.  
>  _song to listen to when reading this (also song that the title came from): i'm so sorry by imagine dragons_

Three weeks.

It’s been three weeks since she last saw him. Three weeks since she kissed him goodbye in a darkened corner of Nanda Parbat. Three weeks since they tried not to share secret smiles with each other as she boarded the jet once again because he was Heir to the Demon now, Al Sahim to be exact, and she was supposed to have said goodbye to him, not hello, but she’d done just the opposite of that. And now they were something, despite no one else really knowing that they were something, and that thought sent a whole _different_ set of electric jolts down her spine.

But now here he was, three weeks later, staring right past her and straight into Nyssa like they weren’t a _something_ , and it was getting on her nerves. A lot. Sure, if he’d acted like they _were_ a something in front of everybody here, including the three other League members flanking him, she would be even more upset, but it had been _three weeks_ since she’d even _seen_ him, and could he at least have the decency to spare a glance her way?

Sara’s comatose body still lays in their new base, which Felicity has taken to calling the Canary cave, because both mask-wearing Canaries currently reside there, even if one of them has been in a coma for the past three weeks; the reason for the League’s visit now. Because, apparently, Nyssa’s decision to sneak into Nanda Parbat while everyone was distracted preparing for Oliver to ascend to his position as Heir to the Demon (a title that Nyssa swears up and down he doesn’t deserve when they’re in private) and drain her father’s already-weakened-from-bringing-Thea-back-to-life Lazarus Pits by bringing back a long-dead ex-girlfriend, who her father didn’t approve of, is not being treated like the temper tantrum that Felicity sees it as, and more as an act of war against the League. Which isn’t really fair, she thinks, but since when has her opinion mattered in these sorts of things?

Diggle and Laurel flank Nyssa, making it clear that the League is going to have to go through them to get to her; a ridiculous idea, because Felicity, despite loving both of them to pieces, knows that Oliver alone could take each of them out separately, and with a whole bunch of assassins flanking him, the fight will definitely not be a fair one. But no one is fighting at the moment, just broodily staring at each other as Oliver announces what Ra’s has decided is Nyssa’s punishment. Nyssa is clenching her teeth in what Felicity assumes is an attempt to keep herself in check, because she obviously  thinks Oliver’s new title is some kind of sick prank the universe is playing on her and nothing more. Laurel is silently gaping at Oliver, because he’d ignored her _Ollie_ when he first marched up to them in the alley after they came out of Big Belly Burger, and they’d all forgotten that Laurel was the only one who didn’t know what exactly being Al Sahim entailed. Diggle is trying to engage him in some sort of brooding staring contest, only Oliver isn’t looking in his direction either, so really Dig’s just brooding.

And Felicity? Well, she’d dropped her burger on the ground when she saw him, and she’s annoyed that he hasn’t looked at her since he arrived, and she’s wondering if he would look if she bent down to pick her burger up because honestly she’s still very hungry. She thinks it might be inappropriate to pick it up right now. But it’s also inappropriate to ignore your _something_ after three weeks of being apart.

She decides to pick it up. All at once, three pairs of assassins’ eyes and Oliver’s own blue ones turn to her. And she almost drops it again, because now she realizes why Oliver wasn’t – couldn’t – look at her, because, despite him still not cracking even a smile, his eyes are full of enormous, swelling barrels of love hidden behind a quickly-cracking mask of harshness.

Nyssa and Laurel and Dig are also staring at her, with slightly confused and irritated expressions, because you don’t just interrupt a meeting with the League of Assassins to pick up your burger.

“What?” She asks them in a whisper. “I was hungry, and this looked like it was going to take a while.”

She glances back at Oliver for only a second, and sees him trying very, very hard to keep a smile from coming out. That doesn’t keep the edges of his mouth from creeping up just a little bit, and she feels a little more content now that it’s very clear that he still feels _exactly_ the same as he did three weeks ago.

“I assure you,” one of the other League members assures her with cold tones, “this will take only as long as the _daughter of the demon_ ,” Felicity can tell they’re making the mistake of emphasizing that Nyssa is no longer heir, “cooperates.”

“It would do well for you to know your place, Al Turs,” Nyssa begins, chin lifted with a haughty gaze, “traveling with Al Sahim has given you hubris. I still outrank you, so it would be wise to _hold your tongue_.” Nyssa seems to enjoy pulling power trips, especially since none of Team Arrow (or maybe its Team Canary now) cares at all whether she’s Heir to the Demon or Daughter of the Demon, because the highest titles they have between them are District Attorney, Dig’s War Honors, and Vice President of Palmer Technologies. She then turns back to Oliver. “I will consent to a trial by combat, but I will _not_ return the body of Taer Al Safer; I had every right to bring her back, and, since I had been far out of Nanda Parbat for months, I could not have known about the pits’ already weakened state.”

That is a lie, and Felicity knows it, but she’s not going to say anything, so she just takes a bit out of her burger. Oliver’s eyes darken a bit, and not for the reason that the League Members assume they are darkening, and she smiles a bit from behind her food, because this is what he gets for not seeing her for _three whole weeks._ Even though she knows that that wasn’t really his fault, and, to be fair, they thought they’d see each other a lot less soon than this.

Oliver warns Nyssa that Ra’s will not be pleased by this decision, and she argues back that she was in her right to do all that she did. By now, Laurel and Dig are chiming in, because they’ve all grown quite fond of the daughter of the demon in the past few weeks, and, despite Nyssa not being afraid of trial by combat, they all remember what happened the last time a member of their team went to be tried by combat.

Felicity licks the ketchup off her fingers before chiming in herself. “Yeah, you can’t just come over here and threaten to stick things in us if she doesn’t cooperate. She knows the League rules better than most of you, and if she says you’re wrong, then you’re wrong.”

It’s quite possible everything she just did she did on purpose. Because it has not escaped her notice the little growl that only barely escaped Oliver’s throat at the words _stick things in us_. And, while everyone else might mistake the dark eyes and growl as signs of anger – well, everyone except her and Laurel – Felicity _knows_ those signs; remembers the way they looked and sounded when surrounded by candlelight and red drapery.

Neither of them does anything about it, though. Oliver and Nyssa finish their confrontation, with the unspoken promise of more threats to come, and Felicity finishes her burger. And they go their separate ways, and Felicity’s a bit disappointed he couldn’t stay longer, but she got what she wanted out of the encounter.

So they all go back to their new base, and Felicity watches as Nyssa presses kisses into Sara’s limp hands and promises that she’s not letting the League take her away. And she steals some of Diggle’s fries and then realizes that she has to get home fairly soon because she has an early meeting the next morning, and there’s really not much else that needs to be done there tonight.

And when she’s almost at her car, she feels a pair of arms wrap around her tightly, and she would be scared – and she does jump a bit and maybe let out a small squeal – but she’s not really, because she knows that scent of sweat and leather and pine anywhere, and then he’s silencing her squeal with a kiss. And she kisses him back – of course – and then he’s lifting her up so she’s sitting on the hood of her car, the cold metal against her legs countering the heat pooling in her belly.

And then, after kissing her senseless, they break apart, but only enough so their faces are barely an inch apart, and neither of them can stop themselves from smiling.

“Hi.” She whispers against his mouth as little puffs of his breath warm her cheeks.

“Hi.” He answers, with that smile reserved only for her.

“So I see you’ve stepped into the role of the most handsome demon’s head ever very nicely.”

His eyes look a little far away when she says this, and she scolds herself a bit for ruining the moment, but he bounces back quickly. “They’re all believing it, but it gets a little difficult sometimes when your official league business is interrupted by burger-eating.”

“Please. You totally enjoyed that.”

He answers her with another kiss, but then they hear the sound of heels echoing down the street, and Oliver disappears into the shadows for a second.

“Felicity!” Laurel calls, “You forgot your purse!”

“Sorry,” she answers, “seeing Oliver today has left me all kinds of spacey.”

“Yeah, about that,” the other woman begins, “did something happen with the two of you in Nanda Parbat? Because, while the others might’ve mistaken that for anger, I know the look that was in his eyes when he looked at you, and that went _way_ beyond the stupid pining I remember from last month.”

“What? No, nothing happened. Resurrecting Thea took up too much time for anything to happen and all that.”

“Felicity, you’re sitting on your car with your lipstick all messed up.”

“And?”

“Okay.” She replies, but Felicity knows she doesn’t really believe her. “Here’s your purse anyway. Tell Ollie I said hi, your secret’s safe with me.”

Laurel shoots one more glance over her shoulder before walking back inside the building, and then Oliver reappears again.

“We really need to work on your excuses.” He tells her, before moving to kiss her neck.

“You’re one to talk, Mr. _energy-drink-in-a-syringe._ ”

“Astute observation, Ms. _I’ve-noticed-how-particular-you-are-with-what-you-put-in-your-body._ ”

“Are we really going to bring up one of my Freudian slips every time we do this?” She bemoans, but she’s laughing anyway.

“Only until we run out of them.” He answers, and, once again, his words feel like a promise, that this is going to be a thing that continues and lasts and they’re not going to walk away from.

And it’s a good thing that it’s too late for anyone to be looking into this particular alleyway, because her hands are moving to undo the buttons on his black League gear, and his hands are slowly pulling her skirt up and really, _thank god_ , because _it’s been three weeks._

**Author's Note:**

> i love secret relationship tropes, have ever since i watched psych and shules kept their relationship a secret for a few episodes.


End file.
